


Eight lovers and a Jedi

by Gabriel4Sam



Series: The clones, the Jedi and the Younglings. [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, PWP, Polyamory, Pregnancy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/pseuds/Gabriel4Sam
Summary: Obi-Wan falls in love with eight men with identical faces, one by one, and every one of them is unique, in his heart, in his arms and in his bed.





	1. It should be complicated....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CentauriRose (Miss_Lucy_Jackson)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lucy_Jackson/gifts).



> Something CentauriRose (Miss_Lucy_Jackson) said in a review gave me the idea to do a part about how every clone relationship with Obi-Wan is different, and yes, by that I mean in bed. So, it's only logical that this fic was in their honor!

This is what it’s like to have eight lovers: not as complicated as you could believe.

It’s not Obi-Wan’s first time, it’s probably easier this way. But he was never in a relationship, not that way. Sleeping a few times with another Jedi, with a friend, because you’re curious, or because meditation is not always enough against the hormones, that’s not exactly the same thing as a relationship as the galaxy defines it.

And even in the civilizations that accepted, or encouraged, polyamory, nine participants and eight siblings in those, it’s….ok, Obi-Wan can’t think of another example.

It should be complicated. There should be petty jealousy, or difficulties in communication. Hidden, Obi-Wan and the younglings wanted by the Empire, and the difficulties every time a new brother is liberated, and the stress of the missions that the brothers take, the stress about Ahsoka, then the Ghost’s crew, the stress about the future…

But that never comes. There is bickering sometimes, of course, but never more.

Obi-Wan and his lovers fall in love, the nine of them, in the nest of the sanctuary, one by one, and they never look back.

Obi-Wan falls in love with eight men with identical faces, one by one, and every one of them is unique, in his heart, in his arms and in his bed.


	2. Rex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex is the first one....

Rex is the first one that comes to Obi-Wan’s bed. Not by privilege of rank, of course, that would be disrespectful of everybody in this relationship. Obi-Wan and the brothers have been trying to search the way it could work between them for a few weeks and it’s been long discussions, heavy pettings, delicious kisses, shivers when Obi-Wan’s mouth explore sensitive necks, and the beard, the beard!! Slowly going but so good. Exploring the way their respect had become more, how each one of them clicked with Obi-Wan. The Captain had felt, little by little, the potential for love that was between his ribs, blossoming in more.

He had slept in Obi-Wan’s bed a few times, but in the un-sexiest way possible: after what happened in the Temple, all the children minus the twin have nightmares. The enormous bed in the biggest bedroom was Jesse’s idea and a few times, when the shadows were too powerful in little minds, it was just perfect: the children seeking Obi-Wan’s light and the warmth of the clones.

Meditation, safety, peace, are helping, and the younglings come less and less to the Jedi’s room but Rex still asked Obi-Wan’s permission to put a lock on that door. If the Jedi is ready to ask more, to receive more, a locked door seems like the best of idea.

And then one day, it happens. This is not a stressing day. Not a reaction to adrenaline. Just the conclusion of a courtship, the beginning of more, the logical conclusion of long discussions in the nights, of laughs and trust. In the morning, that special day, he has tea with Obi-Wan, since they are always the first up. Jesse had the last guard and go to bed, a kiss on the Jedi lips and a pat of the back from his brother. Rex and Obi-Wan watch the sun rising in the sky, slowly and it’s peaceful and good, the warmth of the other body against their side.

The day is full but no more than other days. Baths for the little ones. Ship maintenance. A little gardening with Crasher. After lunch, he helps Kix tidy up, and drinks a second caf, watching Obi-Wan teaching the twin Wookies some sort of katas that involves apparently to jump of the walls and the ceiling. The Jedi moves like a predator, all control, power, fluidity. Even the clones, the most dangerous men in the galaxy, don’t move like that, and Rex shivers. What would it takes to break that control? What would it takes to make Obi-Wan yells and begs?

The other man stops and gives him a gaze so piercing that Rex, not exactly shy, colours a deep red.

Ah. He didn’t know Obi-Wan could feel it when… He lets the Jedi to their training and go, very fast, in search of something useful to do.

And in the sanctuary, there is always something to do, so he forgets that moment, until that night, when a knock distract him from the cheap novel he was reading.

Obi-Wan is blushing, but determined, and it’s the blushing more than the circumvoluted question that helps Rex understands. And then they fall on the bed and start learning each other.

Rex learns how to peel his lover from all these tunics, tabards, countless layers of fabric. He would swear against it, if he didn’t understand how important it’s for Obi-Wan, survivor of the Order, to still dress like that. Also, he’s pretty sure he will find that long unwrapping erotic, later, after their thirst for each other had had a few times, a few nights, to become less burning.

He learns the noises the Jedi makes, when Rex runs his tongues over his cock. The way he can’t keep his eyes open, a moan rolling under his tongue, when Rex teeth close carefully on a nipple. The Jedi’s legs fall open and his lover laughs, tender words falling from his lips, and press a finger in, freshly slicked.

“Have you ever…?”

“No, no. Do you want?”

“Perhaps another time. You need a little more than a finger, once, for it to be a pleasant experience.”

Still, has he see the way his lover’s fists crush the sheet in pleasure when Rex pushes a second finger, he vows to explore that. Under his fingers, the muscles open beautifully, and Obi-Wan never tense, just blushes, moans and opens his legs more. Yes, a lot of lube, a few days to fingers him a little more every day and if his lover still want it…

Rex kisses him, hard, full of bite, and then presses his face between his tights.

Now, he knows what sounds Obi-Wan makes when he begs, and it’s perfect. The other man trembles and only Rex’s arm stop his hips from moving too much. He drinks everything, kisses him again, Obi-Wan abandoned, pliant, in his arms.

Obi-Wan’s mouth is a lot shyer, inexpert, but he refuses to use his hand. Rex doesn’t ask if his lover ever used his mouth on another man: if it was, it was long ago, but it’s still so good. The hot breath against his skin when Obi-Wan hesitates, the most sweet of torture. The surprised grunt when Rex, inadvertently, moves his hips. In the end, Rex has a hand in the red hair, guiding him, and it’s one of the most erotic experience of his life. He had knew mouths more experts, yes, but that one was Obi-Wan’s, and the trust and the love, for the Jedi to make himself so vulnerable was humbling. He feels he has been hard since the beginning of his life at his point, but it’s not urgent. Obi-Wan explores, slowly, but learning, and seems very satisfied by the noises Rex makes when a shy tongue, then an eager tongue, caresses the underside of his cock.

His words have lost the power to form sentences: it’s encouragements, _more, harder_ , the name of Obi-Wan a lot… and then excuses, more kisses, when Obi-Wan almost chokes.

“I need a lot more of training in that.” He laughs, Rex’s hands petting his hip, his ass.

Rex laughs with him, stroking slowly his lover’s cock, already filling again.

They don’t sleep before dawn, too eager to explore.


	3. Jesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse had a hell of a pregnancy kink and didn’t felt ashamed by it. In fact he enjoyed it immensely and made sure Obi-Wan also did.

Jesse had a bit of a pregnancy kink. That was not something he had known before the sanctuary, before Obi-Wan and the wonder of the Force, before their seed in his belly…. He had experience, more than all of them, more than three of his brothers together, but in a long string of natural-born lieutenants, war reporters, grateful civilians, he never had occasion to bed a pregnant lover.

He wasn’t sure it would be the same, if the kid wasn’t theirs and he would never know, because Obi-Wan was it. Their lover, their spouse, their Jedi. He loved him no matters if the Jedi was pregnant or not, of course. He loved him for more than sex, for every laugh, for every hour, for every second of their new life.

But he still had a hell of a pregnancy kink and didn’t felt ashamed by it. In fact he enjoyed it immensely and made sure Obi-Wan also did. The ginger man had very little experience before accepting them and Jesse sometimes asked himself if their own kinks hadn’t shaped Obi-Wan, but the sexual chemistry… It wasn’t important if it came for the Force, by chance, or because Obi-Wan had only explored this verse of sexuality with them…

 

That was what he preferred: Obi-Wan so big, so round, an impossible wonder only Stewjon’s biology could offer. Like right now: twelve years after they flew here, Obi-Wan on his eight pregnancy, the bigger yet. Proudly bearing six unborn younglings.

“Are we sure it’s really possible?” Cody had asked, almost fearful for their spouse.

“Stewjon would populate the entire galaxy if they let their fertility run his natural course.” Kix had reassured. “And he’s in perfect health. Better than just after the war, in fact.”

Perfect health or not, six months in the pregnancy, Obi-Wan was already huge.

“Look at you…” Jesse whispered, lust in his eyes, finding their lover with a holobook in the garden, under a tree.

A perfectly arched eyebrow.

“And what do you see, dear one?”

Jesse knelt beside him, stole a kiss, a second one. His hands had found his belly and something hot was in his guts. They had done that. They had fucked him, his voice hoarse, and now their children were weighting him and he was perfect and theirs.

“Krifff… Do you think someone would see us? You’re getting hotter every day.”

A laugh.

“You mean I’m getting every day bigger than a moon.”

Jesse nipped at the angle of his jaw.

“Hotter. Bigger. Perfect lover, letting us breed him again and again. You give us strong daughters, smart sons. Our Jedi.” His teeth found the spot behind the ear, the one that made Obi-Wan’s breath hitch and his cheeks flush.

“Was your book good?”

“Kriff the book, help me stand. I’m not getting surprised getting kriffed in the garden by our children.”

They didn’t run to the bedchamber. Obi-Wan couldn’t exactly anymore. The second they were inside, Jesse had Obi-Wan up against the wall, moaning under his kiss, clothes crumbling one by one under urgent hands, and Jesse knelt, a sigh that made Obi-Wan’s hips buckle.

The belly made sucking the pregnant Jedi complicated but Jesse still put his best efforts in it, his hands strong on his hips. Their lover had small bruises on the right one, some brothers liked to bite, and he pressed them, carefully, just enough to make him beg.  

Obi-Wan never lost his footing, not even in pleasure with his gravity centre so different, so he sucked him until the other warned him, and then continued, drinking everything before helping a very pliable Obi-Wan on the bed.

“How should I have you? On your knees? Watching your greedy, perfect little hole take my cock? Or straddling me? Would you fuck yourself on me, would you put a good show for me?”

Obi-Wan whined and rolled on his knees. The view was perfect. Yes, Jesse couldn’t see the way his body had grown, but he loved it too: the round ass, the hips, the long back and all its freckles and the neck, vulnerable, offered.

“You’re beautiful” he said, searching for the lube on the bedside, because if Obi-Wan had learned a lot, was happy, his lovers had not forget his struggle with self-worth during the war, and just after. Every occasion to compliment him was a good one.

He pushed a finger in him and the muscle opened easily, as always.

“Kriff. You should see that. Like you were made to take it.” He pushed a second one, start moving them, drinking the sight, the noises of pleasure of Obi-Wan.

“Perhaps my body was. Perhaps it wants your cock. Perhaps it thinks you could pump a few more younglings in me, leave me too big to move. Only laying there, growing, growing, taking your cocks and growing…”

Jesse wasn’t the only one knowing about the pregnancy kink and Obi-Wan had never been above using it.

“I can’t get over how big you made me. How you pumped your semen in me, again, again, all of you, so good, so strong. Do you remember how I begged, how I yelled? How I loved that? You’re insatiable when you’re trying to knock me up. Some days, it felt like I was always open, being pounded.”

Jesse was whining, but he wouldn’t rush preparation, kriff. Never, never take a risk to tear their beloved, to cause him discomfort. Under his fingers, Obi-Wan was opening easily, his hole glistening with lube. It was always easy, had been for the first time, and it had getting easier once their sex life had gotten past the hesitant first stage and a blushing Obi-Wan had said that he would tell them if it became too much, but they needed to stop keeping count in an effort to not overwhelmed him. He was perfectly capable of saying no, and he hoped they were, but could they refrain to not approach him just because they knew he had had sex once today already?

“How many?” Jesse asked, because if there was one thing as hot as knowing they had put this children, _six, **six,** they were blessed_ , in Obi-Wan’s belly, it was knowing it was _their_ children, that blessing shared with his brothers.

Their beloved shared, and loving them.

“Three. Rex, when we woke up. Well, I woke up because he was fingering me, best wake up call, and he fucked me, like you, on my knees. And Bly and Dogma after the lunch. I went to ask about their modifications on the Alpha shuttle and they had me against a bunk.”

Jesse whined, took his fingers out, making Obi-Wan arch, a protesting moan rolling.

“Shh. Not letting you empty.”

Jesse scrambled out of his pants but keep the shirt. He had been badly hurt on a mission, eight months ago, and all the bacta in the galaxy couldn’t help against that scar. Obi-Wan always told him he didn’t care, but he preferred to keep it, now.

He pushed in, slowly, then a big push and he was all the way in.

“Force. Oh Force.” Obi-Wan was groaning, then moaning and his cries only gained in force when Jesse started to take him, hard, quick, and profound. Filthy words, promising always, promising semen on his tights, promising love and family, promising Obi-Wan on his knees in the kitchen, Obi-Wan on his back, Obi-Wan against a wall.

Promising he was theirs, desired, loved, cherished.

Promising to breed him, to make him theirs, to put children in his belly and smiles on his face.

He fucked him, hard, harder, riled up by the moans, and then the yells. Like he was trying to really pump more children in that body that shivered under theirs, days after days. And when he came in him, he suddenly had the idea of a plug. He should find one, next time he went on a mission. To empty himself in their lover and then to plug him, to keep him full…

But that was an idea for another time, and he rolled Obi-Wan, kissed him, and then went to cherish from his tongue his renewed erection.


	4. Dogma, Rex and Bly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the special treat. The really wild moments. The most wonderful sexual experiences. To be honest, he didn’t exactly remember how they went from having the same lover to sharing said lover at the same time, but it was probably Jesse's idea. And the results…

 

Dogma hadn’t touched another being sexually before Obi-Wan. He had wanted too, sometimes, but breaking the regs? Like that? For something that seemed certainly pleasant but not vital to the Army?

No, he came to his lover’s bed a virgin. That doesn’t mean they didn’t experiment together. He was a virgin, but not a prude, and the gift of this man in their arms was something to be revered and explore. Obi-Wan had not a long experience under his belt and the two of them took to new challenges the same way: with research.

Of course, Obi-Wan learned also the joy of sex with Dogma’s brothers but jealousy wasn’t in the plan. He loved his brothers and seeing the joy of Rex when Obi-Wan kissed him, the tenderness of Cody’s hand on Obi-Wan’s belly, the compassion in Obi-Wan’s eyes when Bly dreamt of General Secura…

Dogma adored the fact that he was _their_ lover and little by little, months after months, years after years, it had begun to affect their lovemaking.

Oh, it didn’t _need_ to be like that. He had very fond memories of baths, taken just together, the two of them, of exploring theirs bodies during long hours, knowing the other adults were taking care of the younglings.

But this? This was the special treat. The really wild moments. The most wonderful sexual experiences. To be honest, he didn’t exactly remember how they went from having the same lover to sharing said lover at the same time, but it was probably Jesse's idea. And the results… Obi-Wan was on his back with his feet on the bed, his legs as open as they could, Rex pounding in him with great strength, the Jedi’s mouth half open around a moan, his eyes alive, a blue fire in them, passion, lust, love melted together. So different from the broken shell of their beginning in the sanctuary, with his dull eyes, weary from battle fatigue and the genocide of his people! His hands where on Rex’s back, caressing, encouraging.

His freckled skin was maculated with sperm and, at the end of the bed, Bly was sitting satiated for now but admiring the spectacle. And it was one: their lover was beautiful. His hair were whiter now but the curve of his lips, redder from all their kisses, was as enticing as the first day Dogma had tasted them, a trembling kiss in the garden a few weeks after they had decided to try for this relationship, ten days after Obi-Wan had joined Rex’s bed for the first time.

The Stewjon’s native had given birth almost a month ago and his body was marked by it, by all the pregnancies.

He was a glorious view, abandoned on the bed, impaled on Rex’s cock, the trace of an older bite on his clavicle, his belly softer from all the children he had given them, pounded hard and begging for more with all his body.

He was glorious, he was theirs, semen on his skin, red lips and his body opening at every thrust, like he was made for that. Every time Rex was fully seated in his body, a moan rolled over their lover’s tongue, half a moan, half a sigh. His cock was hard, leaking, but he didn’t seem ready for more attention there. He had developed a bit of a kink for the brothers taking their pleasure in him, he loved the attention, he loved feeling wanted so much, getting marked as their in all the way he could, let it be sperm splashing on his skin, kisses devouring his mouth, impatient hands disrobing him, or a hard cock forcing his way in his body, inexorably, opening his throat or his ass.

He gasped Rex’s name when the other man picked a harder rhythm and Dogma leaned over him, kissing the noises of pleasure right on his lips. When Rex finished and withdrawn from their lover with a grunt, a last kiss and a praise, Dogma took his place.

Obi-Wan was getting desperate and the mewling sound he made when Dogma took him was only covered by Dogma’s groan.

The body under him was so open, wet from lube and Rex’s sperm. Before Rex, he had taken Bly in him, before the other finished on him, and his body had never seemed more made for that, the wet noises obscene and arousing, opening beautifully for his cock, wet from his brother’s sperm.

“Say it, please. Say it, love, say it”. Dogma begged

“I’m yours, yours, yours.” Obi-Wan chanted, the last word almost a yell when Rex took his cock in his mouth.

And he was. With a hard thrust that made Obi-Wan yell, Dogma began to chase his pleasure, love and lust roaring inside him.

 


	5. Cody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody still can’t grasp sometimes how he went from being lost in the Empire’s grasp to that. Naked in a bath with the man he adores, after a day of teaching younglings, safe with some of his brother in a sanctuary world.

**Cody**

 

Cody loved Obi-Wan, before. Before the world went to hell, before the dark days of the Empire and all the years he spend a mindless drone, little more than a flesh droid. Before a brown cloaked body took a dive down a cliff, the sound of canon still resonating. Before Ahsoka found him, saved him, gave him back his mind.

Before the sanctuary. Before the perfect happiness of Obi-Wan, alive, proud, happy, his belly distended from their children.

Technically, they are not Cody’s children: some of them were conceived before he came here, and even the other ones can't be his, he never took Obi-Wan after all, never spend himself in his body.

They are still his children, too, in every way that count: the heart ones.

But he loved Obi-Wan before, when he wouldn’t have dreamed to touch him, even in passing, and he loves him now, when the time in their happy nest had begun to heal his soul. He healed enough for their nights together to start being about pleasure, and not only therapeutic: when he touches him now, it’s not frantic, to assure himself Obi-Wan is warm flesh and not a dream of his broken mind. He learned to take his time, he learned to savour, he learned to let Obi-Wan touch him too, even if he knows his lover still regret sometimes that Cody isn’t ready to let Obi-Wan sucks him, and to accept the gift of Obi-Wan opening his legs for him.

They still are happy.

How could they not, when Obi-Wan is bearing their family new children, little lights to brighten their world? When he’s safe, on his tenth pregnancy, happy and safe and their? He has birthed thirty-four children and doesn’t seem ready to stop, and Cody still can’t grasp sometimes how he went from being lost in the Empire’s grasp to _that_. Naked in a bath with the man he adores, after a day of teaching younglings, safe with some of his brother in a sanctuary world. Obi-Wan confessed to him once that before the sanctuary, he had only taken baths in running water, on the outside. In the Jedi Temple, that would have been frivolous. But here, eight months pregnant with triplets, the water helps with the back pain, one of his only troubles in pregnancy. Nature is very nice to pregnant Stewjon’s natives, and not only in the number of children.

“Does it help?” Cody asks, his hands gentle and soft on his lover’s shoulders. The noises that Obi-Wan makes should be illegal and Cody feels himself hardening in the warm water, the air full of the perfume of the herbs that they put in it, the herbs that Kix grows especially for their properties.

At the beginning, growing hard would have ashamed him, before he understood that Obi-Wan craves that validation, too, before Obi-Wan understood that Cody refusal to take him wasn’t a lack of desire. Now, he pushes lightly against the other’s back, for he wants Obi-Wan to know he had made him hard, and he appreciates the hitch in the other man’s respiration.

“I want to live in this bathtub.” The Jedi jokes, his head coming to rest against Cody’s shoulder. His lover’s hands find his distended belly and they laugh when a kid kicks.

“They want to meet you.”

“Or they want out because they find the place lacking, three of them inside.”

“Well, their siblings were more numerous and they still waited nine months, those ones can do it too. New-borns are fragile enough, I don’t want to imagine caring for premature ones, and I would be terrified.”

The last word is a whine: Cody had found his nipples, play lightly with them. They’re always more sensitive at the end of a pregnancy, even if he doesn’t give milk.

“More.” The redhead asks, his hands finding his lover knees, on the sides of his own legs. He never pushes, but he verbalizes more with Cody. The ex-Commander had watched a few times Obi-Wan having sex with his brothers and he knows the other are more in the habits to push him in place and to manhandle him, Obi-Wan happy to take it, but he loves knowing, being sure he does what Obi-Wan wants.

He pinches the nipples, harder, and a first moan is his reward. A little more, his nails coming to play and Obi-Wan’s hips move in the water, in search of friction. Cody kisses the wet neck, nibbling on a cute freckles and the moans that follows are noisier.

“Do you think you can come just like that?” he asks, curious. He has seen his lover come untouched, sometimes, when the other took him, but never like that, with just teeth and lips against his neck and his nipples played.

“Probably not like that.” Obi-Wan pants, “But you’re more than welcome to try. I will tell you if it’s too much.” And then he whines again when Cody pinches his nipple harder, his other hand caressing his belly. He adores when his lovers touch him there when he is pregnant, when his belly is full of the little lives they planted in him

_Look,_ he wants to whine _. Look at what you did to me. Look how I’m yours_.

He closes his eyes, pushes his head more against Cody’s shoulder and let the other explore and play with him all he wants, simply putting himself into loving hands.


	6. Kix and Jesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He adores Obi-Wan, of course. He loves their children, their lives. He just doesn’t need to express it by bending their Jedi over a table.  
> But he loves to watch it.

**Kix and Jesse**

In a way, Kix always knew that sex didn’t interested him in the same way that most of his brothers. He’s not repulsed by it, he even tried it, but he believes it’s a lot of work for something he can have with his hand in less time, less sweat, less work.

Strangely, he’s still interested by the idea of it. He loves how Obi-Wan is theirs in all the way, the most primal, the most animal.

He loves the way their lover’s gaze become glazed in his desire, the noises, the spectacle of it…He loves the view, but he has no desire to do the work himself;

He adores Obi-Wan, of course. He loves their children, their lives. He just doesn’t need to express it by bending their Jedi over a table. They have their moments just for them, because he wouldn’t renounce the joy of it, of that man he loves napping, peaceful and trusting, against him, of sharing kisses and candies on a calm afternoon, of preening the vegetables garden together. He loves Obi-Wan’s laugh, his dry humour, his taste in holonovels. They can spend hours together after their favourite author, a favourite they share, has released his last book, arguing about it and Kix doesn’t think it’s an activity less binding and loving that sex. He loves Obi-Wan but he doesn’t need to sleep with him.

That doesn’t mean he would ever renounce the open invitation he has to Obi-Wan’s bedroom when his brothers are here.

Like tonight. A tall glass of juice, made with the fruits of the sanctuary because their garden is really becoming productive, a comfortable place on the bed, against the wall with a pillow in his back.

And the view…

Obi-Wan is almost upside-down, the strength behind Jesse’ trusts has pushed him until his head is almost outside the bed but he doesn’t seem to care and he’s moaning, his voice broken, every time Jesse pushes in. He’s using his hands on the floor to stop himself from rolling totally outside the bed and….and he’s alive, so much alive, so more alive that the broken shell they had found in the Temple.

“Perhaps you should have him on his knees before he falls.” Kix remarks, and Jesse obeys dutifully, earning himself a disappointed whine when he eases free. He helps Obi-Wan on his knees, the Jedi panting and then he seats himself in his lover again, in a hard trust that makes the Jedi mewls his name.

Kix leans down and kisses him, drinking the name on those lovely lips.

“I love you” he whispers and Obi-Wan whines again.

“You’re perfect, like that. He could fuck you all day. Perhaps I should com Dogma, for after. He likes you all wet, no? All yours. Beloved, darling. Like that. You’re so beautiful on your knees…” He continues, when Jesse pounds in the Jedi harder and deeper, chasing satiation in the beloved body, and Kix talks, his hands caressing the sweaty hair, he talks and he talks and he talks, telling in an hundred ways how Obi-Wan is loved, and as the same time, Jesse do the same thing, using his cock and not his voice.

Between them, Obi-Wan lets pleasure and love wash over him, his soul and body filled.


	7. Crasher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you doing me a hickey? How old are we?”  
> “Well, you’re only tampering with the systems of the shuttle when you’re bored and after Rex'll need to put it together again, so I thought I would offer another distraction.”  
> “Excuse me? I’m an excellent mechanic!”

 

Crasher had never meet Obi-Wan, before. He had not known General Kenobi, the man who led his brothers into battles, coordinated thousands of men, ships, the man who was one of the face of the Republic’s propaganda. He had only know him as the broken man from after Mustafar, the man who made Kix’s lips thin in worry, the man who they were terrified to let alone in the first times.

And with time, days after days, weeks after weeks, months after months, he had knew Obi-Wan’s smile, Obi-Wan’s laugh, Obi-Wan’s patience, everything that made unique, beloved, adored. He had learned his taste in poetry, his horrible favourite herbal tea, his bad puns and the taste of his skin.

With his brothers, there was sometime an edge to their lovemaking that was absent with him, the shadow of the general kneeling for them.

Not always, and less with time.

There was a part of Obi-Wan that he would never know, the man he had been before, but he didn’t care. That man didn’t seemed to have been very happy, opposed to the joy of their lover.

Joy. This is the word that Crasher associates with Obi-Wan. There is joy in his kisses, joy in his moans, joy in the movements of their children inside him. There is joy in the early mornings when he wakes up their lover with long kisses, there is joy in the nights when Obi-Wan is sprawled on the bed, searching for his breath. There is joy at the hour of lunch, when everybody is talking at the same time, when little mouths are stained with chocolate, when the teenagers argue and whine and never, never think they should be silent…It’s so different from their own childhood on Kamino.

And there is joy, fun, when he’s tampering on the afternoon with the shuttle’s comm and Obi-Wan join him.

“I’m working, dear.”

“Hmm”. The Jedi on his lap answers, his lips busy on his neck.

“Are you doing me a hickey? How old are we?”

“Well, you’re only tampering with the systems of the shuttle when you’re bored and after Rex'll need to put it together again, so I thought I would offer another distraction.”

“Excuse me? I’m an excellent mechanic!”

To stop Obi-Wan from laughing, he has no choice but to kiss him, capturing the noises just on his lover’s tongue. He could spend his life kissing this man and he’s, in fact, their entire life safe and happy, on a cycle of love and younglings. The kiss become two kisses, become three kisses, more and more heated, and then he presses his face against Obi-Wan’s collarbone, biting him through the tunic, earning a moan.

“Here?” he asks, because after years in the sanctuary, he knows where this is going.

“Can you obscure the windows of the shuttle?”

Two presses of buttons later, he’s attacking Obi-Wan’s clothes until he can lap at his nipples. Obi-Wan is alive in his arms, more directive than he is most of the time, something that doesn’t surprise Crasher: their lover is at the beginning of his second semester and in those times, he’s insatiable.

“Harder, pinch them” and the ginger’s voice is already wrecked. A little shuffling around and the rest of Obi-Wan’s clothes are on the floor, the Jedi following them to kneel between his legs, opening his pants. When they were younger, Crasher would have begged in two minutes, to be sure he didn’t come too soon, but age has come, experience and his control is better. He can enjoy Obi-Wan’s mouth, the way his lips, his mouth, his throat, work in harmony. He doesn’t push, doesn’t fuck his mouth the way Jesse or Rex do sometimes. He prefers to let Obi-Wan work, admiring the view, that man he adores, lips open around his cock, his head bobbing, and his eyes sparkling. Sometimes, he lets the cock go, because he enjoys being a tease, rubbing his beard on the sensitive skin of the tights, his lips shining from saliva and precome, and then he takes the head in his mouth again, bobbing down and swallowing easily.

“Even an old man has his limits”, Crasher finally says, and he helps Obi-Wan on his lap again, kneading his bottom as they kiss. He has been Obi-Wan’s lover for years: there is lube in his belt, has been for almost all his year. When he eases a lubricated finger into him, he’s not surprised to find him almost already open.

“Good afternoon nap?” he asks, with a laugh.

“Yes, with Jesse.”

He works another finger into him, easily, then a third, scissoring his lover, savouring on his lips the little noises Obi-Wan makes when he find his prostate, rubbing against it without mercy.

“Do you want to come with just my fingers?”

“No, I want to ride you. I want you to fill me…”

“Like that, facing me?”

“Wants to see you.”

And see him he does. As Obi-wan rides his cock, Crasher’s hands on his hips to help, encouraging him with kisses, with dirty words, he sees in his eyes so much desire, so much love. A whimpering, beautiful man, who arches and moans, a man who adores them and bears them children every year.

“That’s it, beautiful” he encourages. “Take me deeper. You feel so good. Does that feel good? My cock hard for you…How many cocks have you taken today? Never enough for us, you know. You’re so beautiful like that, we should keep you in bed all days. Pretty sure we could. Always getting pounded.”

And on the last words, he touches his lover’s cock, but he doesn’t have time for more: with a cry, Obi-Wan’s comes, his semen splattering between them and it’s the view, more than anything that makes Crasher follow, pumping deep into Obi-Wan.

“You were right.” He confesses against his lover’s neck, kissing the sweat on it. “It’s really better that tampering with the comm’”. And he savours his lover’s laugh with great satisfaction.


	8. Hevy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kiss was more tender that passionate. That was a kiss that said Hello. That said I love you. That said I miss you.

 

 

 

A three months mission had been their gift for Boba’s lifeday. It could seem a strange gift and there had been other things, more traditional, but that one… Boba had wanted that a long time and even if he was now really well integrated in the sanctuary, he had never forgotten his father, neither his time on the run after his death.

“Not alone.” Had been the concession he had finally done and the fact that he had seen the brothers only going in mission in teams had probably helped. It had been a good run and they had been successful but now they were home.

“Ommpppffff!” Hevy protested when Obi-Wan thrown himself at him.

The kiss was more tender that passionate. That was a kiss that said _Hello_. That said _I love you_. That said _I miss you_.

“Find a room!” Boba protested, laughing and went in search of a shower and a warm meal.

“Where is everybody?” Hevy asked between kisses.

“Everybody is still sleeping, only Rex in the control room. There was a feast yesterday because Jaahl took his first steps.”

“Everything is a good reason, eh.”

“Yes.” And Obi-Wan had laughed, happy, joyful, alive, a man sure of his place in life, sure of this life in a family that danced and laughed in the night because of the first steps of a toddler.

“We probably have one hour.” He said and Hevy made a soft sound in the back of his throat and kissed him again.  They stumbled into the big room that was Obi-Wan’s, already pushing back tunics and fell on the bed, throwing boots across the room without care. The only important things were the skin they discovered again, the kisses they shared, the noises the Jedi made when Hevy’s lips found the corner of his jaw, when he kissed his Adam’s apple.

“Missed you.” He swore and it was true: no matter how he loved every brother, he didn’t replace one by the other. Everyone was cherished and everyone was missed when absent.

They rolled on the bed until Obi-Wan found himself on his back, his arms still twisted in his tunic, moaning while Hevy was kneeling between his legs, licking broad strips on his inner tights.

“Don’t tease.” Obi-Wan protested.

“But I want to enjoy it…”

“I missed you so much. Can’t you enjoy fucking me instead?” He was whining, he knew he was but Hevy had been far away so long, he had missed him so much, he wanted his skin against his own, his weigh on him and all the rest was inexistent in that second.

“I missed you too.” Hevy said, something soft in his voice and bent his head to take his lover’s cock into his mouth. When his fingers joined the dance, testing carefully how Obi-Wan was stretched from previous hours in his brother’s arms, the Jedi lost his fight against the sounds spilling from his throats, half pleas, half begging. In a few minutes, Hevy had three fingers in him and he was pressing on his prostate relentlessly until Obi-Wan’s pleas started too be desperate. It was too good and the view, Hevy’s mouth red and open, obscenely, deliciously stretched around his cock… Hevy had always been capable to reduce him to a mewling, desperate thing with that mouth, his throat an impossibly tight passage, his eyes burning and possessive, and the three fingers scissoring him.

“Don’t come to fast. I want to see you losing it on my cock.”

“Then put it in me before I forget how it feels!”

The Jedi gripped his legs to help force them open, folding himself almost in half and Hevy took him in one swift move. The rush of pleasure was almost intoxicating and they kissed again, passionate, desperate, a rhythm already building.

“I won’t last long.” Hevy warned.

“I don’t care. I’m so happy. You’re here, here. Take me, take me love, harder. I missed you so much. I want to see your pleasure. I want to come on your cock.” And Obi-Wan arched his back, like he was trying to take his lover deeper in him.

He liked when they played in bed, when they tried position, when they had all nights and tried new things but right now, it was more important to devour each other mouth, to cry at every thrust, to pull him closer…Hevy’s hand came on his cock, rough and perfect, and it was too more: he came, almost wailing, Hevy fucking him through it until he came into him, with just enough strength after to avoid to fall on him.

He pulled free, kissed him again, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Welcome home.” Obi-Wan panted.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr too, with the same username, come and say hi, I don't bite !


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